


Creature Feature

by ImBackBoi



Series: Things that will never be finished or fully fleshed out [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Not Jim Gordon's division, Story that will never be fully finished or fleshed out, but I thought what the hell lets post it anyways so it's not on my computer anymore, editing? Don't make me laugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImBackBoi/pseuds/ImBackBoi
Summary: Something is on the roof playing SOS with the batsignal. Jim Gordon is not amused.Batman takes it home, because why not.Harvey's looking for someone, Jason is bossy, Tim doesn't know why certain questions haven't been asked yet, and Damian is a little shit.(From a story/universe that will most likely never be finished or fully fleshed out but amuse me anyways and posted because I like feedback)





	Creature Feature

**Author's Note:**

> From a story/ universe that will most likely never be finished or fully fleshed out but amuse me anyways. Or have been nixed from it. 
> 
> It's been sitting in my docs taking up space, so I thought 'fuck it'. Here you go. Enjoy. If I ever find out where I wrote up the other part of this, I'll add that too, but until then... Eh.

The bat signal was brilliant against the stormy clouds, visible despite the torrential downpour. Jim Gordon stood, cigarette drooping between his lips, hat dripping, right beside the rooftop exit, mostly out of the rain.  
  
He'd gotten a call about the batsignal acting funny. Someone had turned it on. He'd sent someone to shut it off.  
  
Ten minutes later, it was back on. The same poor sap was sent back up.  
  
Not ten minutes later, it was back on. Now it was flickering.  
  
One was an accident. Twice: coincidence. Third? Well, Jim Gordon wasn't an idiot. He could take a hint. Which was why he now found himself waiting in the rain.  
  
"I don't know who you are," Jim tried to be loud enough to be heard over the rain and still sound 'in charge', "but this is my roof, so you better not mind the company."  
  
Jim didn't expect an answer.  
  
"What's the emergency?"  
  
Finally. Thank god. He was starting to lose feeling in his toes.  
  
"I'm not actually sure," Jim shrugged, "the SOS wasn't me."  
  
"Then who-" Batman cut himself off with a shout as he lunged forward. Jim's cigarette fell as he watched a human ragdoll fall into the vigilante's arms.  
  
"Well, that's new."  
  
"He's alive."  
  
But definitely not in the best of shape, Jim noted. Someone - or thing, judging from the size and placement of the lacerations, had certainly roughed up the unconscious man, and then (wonder of wonders) had treated some of the wounds. His hair was dark and wet, his face starting to wrinkle and was sporting some beautiful bruising, seemed about average height, and probably most importantly, was wearing a lab coat drenched with blood and rain. How long had he been out? And in the rain?  
  
"Who is that?"  
  
"I don't know," Batman searched his pockets, Jim looked away to scan the roof, "More importantly, who -"  
  
"Batman," Jim hated the way his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, "I think I found who."  
  
Batman turned, and Jim hated him for not startling like he had.  
  
"Help," croaked the drenched creature lurking in the shadows on the roof, blue eyeshine intent on the two.  
  
"Come into the light," Batman growled.  
  
The creature edged forward just a bit, but turned it's head and looked towards at the camera by the door. Then looked at them, as if to say, 'Do I look stupid?'  
  
"Are you the one who threw our mystery man?" Jim asked.  
  
The creature nodded. It pointed at the assumed doctor, then at itself.  
  
"Hurt."  
  
"He hurt you? Or you hurt him?"  
  
The creature grinned. It was frightening.  
  
"Both?"  
  
It nodded. Jim rocked back on his feet. He couldn't feel his toes anymore and the itchy, crawling feeling that was creeping up his spine had nothing to do with the cold.  
  
As the creature watched them, it backed up just enough to hunker down and lean against the wall, out of the rain. It's ears flicked like a cats.  
  
"We need to get him out of the rain," Batman was saying, "Before hypothermia sets in. I can take them both, and then make a delivery once we know more."  
  
"Do it," Jim heard himself say even though Batman was already scooping the man up in his arms, "We're not equipped to deal with something like this and I sure as hell don't want to deal with a devil dog."  
  
The creature rumbled, there was a flash of teeth. Jim thought it might be a laugh. He was so done.  
  
Then Batman was gone. Jim sighed and turned off the batsignal. He turned and nearly leapt out of his skin.  
  
The creature was still there. Staring at him.  
  
"Thank-" it croaked, as if speaking took an immense effort. It probably did, "you."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
His hat was starting to soak through.  
  
The creature waved.  
  
Then it was gone.  
  
"Not my division," Jim announced to no one, stepping on his long lost cigarette and touched despite himself, "Thank god."  
  
...  
  
Jim sighed.  
  
"What are you doing here, Harv?"  
  
"Eh," the fat man frowned, "checking on a missing persons report."  
  
Jim stopped short. What? He squinted.  
  
"We have people who do that," he stared hard, "You're not even supposed to be in here. How did you get in here?"  
  
"Friend of mine went missing a month ago on a job," Harvey answered, "Folk have been worried. I said I'd look into it - you got a minute?"  
  
Jim carefully considered his friend and probably stoutest and most loyal supporter, despite his removal from the force.  
  
"Sure. Step into my office."  
  
"Thanks, Jim."  
  
This is my division.  
  
...  
  
The motorcycle roared into the cave. Red Hood leapt off the bike and tore off his helmet.  
  
“Move,” he snarled, kicking the rolly chair with the demon brat occupying it, “Actually, make yourself usefull and get a DNA sample from this and start looking for matches.”  
  
“TT-Hood, I am not your slave,” Robin snatched the hairbrush out of the air before it clocked him in the face, “and leave your mask on. Your face is appalling.”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
Robin sniffed. He glanced around for their visitor and did not find it- er- her. He smirked, and hoped that Todd's reaction to the beast was caught on camera.  
  
...  
  
There was a shout and a gunshot and Damian couldn't help the snort that escaped him.  
  
“You didn't,” Nightwing accused.  
  
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”  
  
Red Robin snickered. The computer beeped and he abruptly stopped. He barked a laugh and in a few keystrokes, fed it to the main bat computer.  
  
“Red!” he sprinted, “Don't shoot her!”  
  
Red Hood held the creature at gunpoint.  
  
It was grotesquely ugly and Jason wasn't sure if a bullet would actually penetrate that armored skull if he did shoot it. He made a minute adjustment to his aim. The creature   
noticed.  
  
It smiled.  
  
“Why not?” Red Hood demanded, “It'll be my second in two weeks. That shit's fucking creepy and why the fuck is it in the cave?”  
  
“Batman brought it home.”  
  
“Her,” croaked the beast, and Jason nearly pulled the trigger. Then it began thrumming, low and throaty, “Su..gar...Da..dee.”  
  
“The. Fuck!” Jason snapped, “The. Actual. Fuck!”  
  
The creature nodded violently.  
  
“Hot...'ants.”  
  
“You know it-her?” Nightwing demanded.  
  
“Heath...cliff.”  
  
“So do you,” Red Robin pulled up the feed he'd sent to the main computer, “though feel free to ask her yourself.”  
  
Tim wondered vaguely why they hadn't done this before.  
  
“Tt- what is your name?”  
  
“Re..gan.”  
  
“What is his name?” Robin pointed at Red Hood, and Jason wasn't sure what Damian was expecting, but real names probably weren't it.  
  
“Ja...son.”  
  
Then she pointed (and the looks on their faces!) , “Dammm...ian. Timm. Dick. Al.”  
  
She-creature started to hum 'Don't bring me down'. Jason snorted. Then he began to laugh.  
  
“Do you have any idea how many people are looking for you?!” he demanded. Creature-Reagan shrugged. Held up a hand, all digits spread out.  
  
“More than five,” he shouted, “Oh god. I have to call Roy. And Harvey. And Krux, he might be able to help reverse whatever happened. Oh my god. Oh my god- that– fuck.”   
  
Jason got up and stormed off.  
  
Creature Reagan watched him go, ear twitching.  
  
“How...?” Dick asked looking to Tim. Tim rolled his eyes.  
  
A click of the mouse brought up the picture of a light olive skinned woman with dark eyes and brown hair, “Registered physical therapist here in Gotham. Volunteers occasionally at the free clinic. Moonlights occasionally as a bounty hunter under the code-name Indigo .”  
  
“Un..ion,” the creature pawed gently at it's straggly, patchy hair that only grew around the crown of its head, “Li..cense.”  
  
“Licensed and registered and definitely not breaking the law,” Tim smiled, “I'm sure it'll grow back once we fix you.”  
  
Damian made an odd choking noise.  
  
“Didn't know that, did you?” Tim didn't wait for an answer, “Owns her own home and rents out a few rooms to -”  
  
“Frank...Grant...Scott.”  
  
“-they miss you by the way. Listed missing over a month ago.”  
  
She made a mournful sound.  
  
Dick snapped his fingers.  
  
“The girl Jason brought to that one party and wouldn't introduce to anybody.”  
  
“She's also the one who answers my phone in Russian,” Jason came back looking much calmer. His phone was in his hand and his next question was directed at Indigo-creature,   
  
“How are you?”  
  
“Cold.”


End file.
